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Our shared values in Y5: To care for myself and others by making sure we are all safe and happy. To be honest in all we do/say. We always work hard and try our best. We listen carefully and thoroughly. We make sure we are always giving our best, so everyone else can be the best that they can be. We look after our property. We like to be 'leaders' and not 'followers' We always choose the 'good' light inside of us. We make the right choices at the right time.Anyone can train hard for a short period. Winners give their best every hour of every day for months on end.

In 5V we like to stop and think - before we do or speak.

'Give children a thought and they’ll learn for a day. Teach them to think and they’ll learn for a lifetime.’David HyerleIf you can imagine it, you can achieve it; if you can dream it, you can become it.- William Arthur Ward You cannot write it, if you cannot say it; you cannot say it, if you haven't heard it. - Pie Corbett

We love to share our way of thinking, it does help us in our learning!

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Note for Parents on the Parents Page

Image:victoriaspast

Read something every day!

Thank you for visiting, we will enjoy a message from you

We do like to learn!

Rivers- Geography Topic The Titanic - 2012 - 100 years!

Be awesome!

Poems can have many different purposes, e.g. to amuse, to entertain, to reflect, to convey information, to tell a story, to share knowledge or topass on cultural heritage. Some forms of poetry are associated with certain purposes, e.g. prayers to thank, celebrate, praise; advertising jingles to persuade; limericks to amuse.
What makes a good poem?

Pizza topped with
rotten eggs and sauerkraut,
seven-week-old speckled trout.
Toss it at your friends and shout.
Start a food fight
you’ll get caught, without a doubt.
So pass the pepper, please.

Kenny Had a Camera by Robert Pottle

Kenny had a camera and took pictures while we ate.
I thought it might be fun to use my food to decorate.
I grabbed a brown banana peel and used it for a wig,
dangled French fries from my nose and snorted like a pig.
I took some veggies from my tray and stuck them in my ears.
I knew that I looked funny and cause the room soon filled with cheers.
But best at being funny was my teacher, I suppose,
â€™cause when she looked and laughed at me, milk came out her nose.

Block City – by Robert Louis Stevenson

This next poem is Amy’s poem – she was with us last year in Y6! I would love Y5 to follow in Amy’s footsteps and write your own poem! Amy’s poem has been written on the day of the ‘storm’ – Monday 2/1/2012. See her blog link at the end of the poem.

THIS NEXT POEM IS COPYRIGHT, IT IS AGAINST THE LAW TO COPY THIS POEM, OR ANY PART, WITHOUT THE AUTHORS PERMISSION.

The Storm

Leaves falling in a great wave,

People trying hard to be brave,

A gust of wind knocking me off my feet,

Oh no, – I`m struggling to breathe,

Swimming through the gushing stream,

First a peaceful stream,

Now a deadly, violent sea.

I can only hear,

The wind howling in my ears,

Lightening striking away ripe pears.

Trees dropping down like stones,

Leaves and mud swirling in cones,

It all suddenly calms for a moment,

Then in one huge dreadful hack,

THE STORM IS BACK.

AKB

Here is Amy’s blog link.

http://dash2012.edublogs.org

A POEM FROM SPACE!

I am halfway to Pluto and Earth doesn’t know
The trials of travel in space as we go

With thrust to our backs while we speed on our way
The blue dot of Earth becomes fainter each day

When earthly horizons slip from your view
The color of loneliness changes its hue

And a radio call to our mission control
Takes nearly a day to just say hello

Yet our boss back on Earth abstract from our flight
Has no understanding of our minds in this plight

The Siren’s of Space singing songs for our souls
Try to tempt us to ruin on the reef of black holes

The singing of songs in space is a dream
For better or worse, you can not hear a scream

Over eyes with wax patches, we resist Siren’s call
Thus avoiding the reef and escaping the fall

Our families back home make do while we’re gone
With or without us their life does go on

For the future of Earth and the human race
The final frontier we seek will be space

Our minds thus expand into places unknown
I am halfway to Pluto but never alone

My brothers want to love me more
They know I’m upset and sore
My brothers cry as they see my cry
They try and make me laugh but it don’t work

Sleeping on the streets with no place to call home
No one to love me
No one to care
Dreaming of being in heaven with my mum.

by a pupil at The City of London Academy
Poem from this link

http://www.hiddenlives.org.uk/ycc/poems_and_stories/little_mike.html

Alliteration – see it in this lovely poem

Rain

Rain races onto the porch
Hitting hard like Rockets rushing in a race to the glass. Rattling rain, rattling the window panes.
The droplets dance daintily
Until they cleverly connect in
A pool of promise for a rainbow.

The Wonderful Wind

The wonderful wind whistles Repeated reminders throughout the day Telling tales of what is coming Predicting and preparing us to pray.
The wise wind sometimes whispers
The secrets that have been secretly hid.

Poetry by Natasha Niemi

Twinkle Twinkle little start – by Jane Taylor

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are.
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.

When the blazing sun is gone,
When he nothing shines upon,
Then you show your little light,
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.

Then the traveller in the dark,
Thanks you for your tiny spark,
He could not see which way to go,
If you did not twinkle so.

In the dark blue sky you keep,
And often through my curtains peep,
For you never shut your eye,
‘Till the sun is in the sky.

As your bright and tiny spark,
Lights the traveller in the dark.
Though I know not what you are,
Twinkle, twinkle, little star.

Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
How I wonder what you are.
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.

Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
How I wonder what you are.
How I wonder what you are.

The Witch’s Brew

Into my pot there now must goLeg of a lamb and green frog’s toe,Old man’s socks and dirty jeans,A rotten egg and cold baked beans. Hubble bubble at the double Cooking pot stir up some trouble.One dead fly and a wild wasp’s sting,The eye of a sheep and the heart of a king.A stolen jewel and mouldy salt,And for good flavour a jar of malt. Hubble bubble at the doubleCooking pot stir up some trouble.Wing of a bird and head of a mouse,Screams and howls froma haunted house.And don’t forget the pint of blood,Or the sardine tin and the clod of mud. Hubble bubble at the double Cooking pot stir up some TROUBLE!

by Wes Magee

Hand On The Bridge

Hand on the bridge,Feel the rhythm of the train.Hand on the windowFeel the rhythm of the rain.Hand on your throatFeel the rhythm of your talkHand on your legFeel the rhythm of your walkHand in the seaFeel the rhythm of the tideHand on your heartFeel the rhythm insideHand on the rhythmFeel the rhythm of the rhymeHand on your lifeFeel the rhythm of timeHand on your lifeFeel the rhythm of timeHand on you lifeFeel the rhythm of time.

–by Michael Rosen

The Child Who Was Wild

Once there was a woman, a young, young womanShe ran from the city, the old, old cityShe ran to the woods, the deep dark woods

She wasn’t seen for days. Days, weeks and months.She came out of the woods, the deep dark woodsShe came with a child, a child who was wild.

She brought the child to the city, the old, old cityHe grew and he grew and he grew and he grewOut of his hands grew shoots: green shoots and leavesOut of his shoulders grew the lily and the roseHis hair was the blossom that blows in the wind, He stood in the city, the old, old city with the leaves and the flowers and the blossomfalling, falling, falling on grey, grey gravel.

Gran was in her chair she was taking a napWhen I tapped her on the shoulder to see if she could rap.Gran can you rap? Can you rap? Can you Gran?And she opened one eye and she said to me, Man, I’m the best rapping Gran this world’s ever seen I’m a tip-top, slip-slap, rap-rap queen.

And she rose from the chair in the corner of the roomAnd she started to rap with a bim-bam-boom,And she rolled up her eyes and she rolled round her headAnd as she rolled by this is what she said, I’m the best rapping gran this world’s ever seen I’m a nip-nap, yip-yap, rap-rap queen.

Then she rapped past my Dad and she rapped past my mother,She rapped past me and my little baby brother.She rapped her arms narrow she rapped her arms wide,She rapped through the door and she rapped outside. She’s the best rapping Gran this world’s ever seenShe’s a drip-drop, trip-trap, rap-rap queen.

She rapped down the garden she rapped down the street,The neighbours all cheered and they tapped their feet.She rapped through the traffic lights as they turned redAs she rapped round the corner this is what she said, I’m the best rapping Gran this world’s ever seen I’m a flip-flop, hip-hop, rap-rap queen.

She rapped down the lane she rapped up the hill,And she disappeared she was rapping still.I could hear Gran’s voice saying, Listen Man,Listen to the rapping of the rap-rap Gran.I’m the best rapping Gran this world’s ever seenI’m a –tip-top, slip-slap, nip-nap, yip-yap,hip-hop, trip-trap, touch yer cap, take a nap, happy, happy, happy, happy, rap-rap-queen

It couldn’t be done

by Edgar Albert Guest

Somebody said that it couldn’t be done

But he with a chuckle replied

That “maybe it couldn’t,” but he would be one

Who wouldn’t say so till he’d tried.

So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin

On his face. If he worried he hid it.

He started to sing as he tackled the thing

That couldn’t be done, and he did it!

Somebody scoffed: “Oh, you’ll never do that;

At least no one ever has done it;”

But he took off his coat and he took off his hat

And the first thing we knew he’d begun it.

With a lift of his chin and a bit of a grin,

Without any doubting or quiddit,

He started to sing as he tackled the thing

That couldn’t be done, and he did it.

There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,

There are thousands to prophesy failure,

There are thousands to point out to you one by one,

The dangers that wait to assail you.

But just buckle in with a bit of a grin,

Just take off your coat and go to it;

Just start in to sing as you tackle the thing

That “cannot be done,” and you’ll do it.

The Road Not Taken – by Robert Frost

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

Friendship

by: Shivam

Friendship is one Be smart and don’t take advantage or you will have none.

Go to the friendship stop and in a second there will be a lot! In there is a friend that will not leave you in the air.

Taking a life will be hard just be yourself and there you are

The soul inside you is a good spirit But the soul outside is a friend! – Shivam – 28/6/2013

Friends and Friendship

–Aviraj S

Friendship is like when we are best friends We promise we all help each other Everyone is my best friend! Friendship is a good thing If we are friends, we are kind If we are friends, we help everyone When we are friends, we choose to help We all are best and kind friends! Aviraj S – 28th June 2013

Evacuation of children 1940

~~ Priya

The bombs dropped and the children cried, begging not to leave Gunshots fired, extremely loud and smoke spread all the way The bombs dropped and the children cried, as their delicate, soft fingers trembled with fear!

The bombs dropped and the children cried They remembered playing with their toys They remembered time spending with their mums! They remembered the wind and the trees, swaying from side to side.

The bombs dropped and the children cried They stood, hoping that soon the war would end! +++Priya

The air raids’ peace +++Gursimran The war is done and the raids are gone but what’s left is the echo of dying citizens!

The clouds are stuffed with whispers, tossed upon the ribbon of black day light, as the children die and suffer in their nerves.

They could not see anything in their sight! As the child hugs her teddy-bear under the curtains of thin smoke, with her back staring at the wall of scattered bricks, she makes her way out, though she smells the clouds of smoke, she cries in pain until she passes away! +++Gursimran

On the ning nang nong
Where the Cows go Bong!
and the monkeys all say BOO!
There’s a Nong Nang Ning
Where the trees go Ping!
And the tea pots jibber jabber joo.
On the Nong Ning Nang
All the mice go Clang
And you just can’t catch ’em when they do!
So its Ning Nang Nong
Cows go Bong!
Nong Nang Ning
Trees go ping
Nong Ning Nang
The mice go Clang
What a noisy place to belong
is the Ning Nang Ning Nang Nong!!

Kiran, Always remember, if it someone else’s poem, but you want to share it with us, make sure the other person [who wrote the poem]’s name is also with the poem. Otherwise people can make ‘trouble’ if they find you using their poem, without their name with it, I will explain more in class next week. It’s only when YOU YOURSELF have written the poem, that you can put your OWN name to it, and people will then know that is your OWN poem. 🙂 – like the ones on this page written by Shivam, Kuljit, Gursimran, Harshaan, etc. etc.

Hi Kiran, it’s a great poem, but you forgot the last verse/stanza…. also, don’t forget to add the poet’s name- when you copy from the internet. It’s faster to highlight the text and to click ‘copy’ and then ‘paste’ if you copy poems.

And now you cannot see the hills
Nor fields that stretch beyond the lane;
But there are fairer things than these
His fingers traced on every pane

Navkiran, it’s so much easier to copy and paste it, you don’t have to type it all up yourself. Also, always remember to put the person’s name to the poem if you copy a poem from the internet, otherwise, it is PLAGIARISM – one of the spelling words. 🙂

Tree’s leaves start to fall,
some orange, some red,
and for a small bird,
they make a comfy bed.
The branches of trees,
some curved, some straight,
and some even form,
a small figure eight.
The trunk of the tree,
is the base of itself,
like in a library,
a rusty old shelf.
the roots of the tree,
go deep, deep down,
like a buried treasure,
never to be found.
trees need sunshine,
water, and dirt,
without these things,
they could get hurt.
trees can do things,
that I wish I could,
If you’re looking for one,
I’d check in the woods!

Hi Avee
A list poem is not a list of names. Look at ours about Jim – Street Child. It sort of tells a story. Write one again, but try this time to make up a story. e.g. the following is not a list poem:
glue
pencils
cups
sources
knives
forks
…. it says nothing. The same with the names, it is just a list of names, it doesn’t say anything. 🙂

Listen to this Mrs Van…
Celebrations box
Snickers came to town,
with his sparklng crown,
showing it off[ee],
like a big fat toffee,
Galaxy was in a frown,
because his mind was down,
Milkyway wanted the crown,
with a dazzling gown,
Mars was the cheeky one,
with his chores all undone.